


Head in the water

by Lilac_the_wolf



Series: Killing Mycroft every month of 2021 [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Character Death, Drowning, Gen, Guns, Killing a character once a month (2021), Mycroft Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:20:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29491212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilac_the_wolf/pseuds/Lilac_the_wolf
Summary: Mycroft got invited to a reception on a luxurious boat, without knowing that he would meet his demise here.
Relationships: Anthea & Mycroft Holmes
Series: Killing Mycroft every month of 2021 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2130717
Comments: 7
Kudos: 9
Collections: Killing a character once a month of 2021





	Head in the water

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the challenge "Killing a character once a month 2021" by [Dorthea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dorthea/pseuds/Dorthea).
> 
> Prompt : "Drowning". I took quite some liberties for this one, even it's still technically a drowning. The death is a little bit graphic, but not too much I think. Also, Anthea needs more love.

Mycroft couldn't breathe anymore. He knew there was water in his lungs, but it felt like they were on fire. He wanted to struggle, but he had no strength left. He was going to die, he was sure he was going to die. How could this have ever happened ?

Just a few hours before, he was in the reception room of a luxury boat, a glass of champagne in his hand, bored. He had been invited to one of those parties that rich people were used to having to show other rich people how rich they were. The organiser was a Member of Parliament who had just bought a new cruise ship, the one they were on, and Mycroft had accepted his invitation only to maintain good relations and to listen to what would be said at the reception. But for the time being, no interesting information had reached him, and the few conservations he had had were all uninteresting.

“Sir ?”

He turned around at the call of his assistant.

“Found anything interesting, Anthea ?”

She shook her head.

“Nothing to report.”

Mycroft held his sigh. To show his boredom would not be to put on a good appearance. He looked around, but there was no one with whom he could have an intelligent conversation. His eyes fell on Anthea. As usual, her eyes were focused on her phone. Mycroft knew that she did answer important messages from time to time, but she did so mainly so that she could talk to no one. Even him. She didn't like to talk. This allowed her to avoid mixing her private and professional life.

“Anthea.”

“Hm ?,” she said without looking up.

“Watch around for me, I need air.”

It wasn't quite true, he was just tired of pretending to smile while waiting for someone to talk to him about insipid things. Anthea nodded absent-mindedly and Mycroft walked away. He quickly left the reception room and walked down an empty corridor and up some stairs. He pushed open a door and arrived in the open air. He took a deep breath and sighed before closing the door. A light wind was blowing, but the boat was stable. He walked forward on the deck and went to lean against one of the railings. He could smell the salty smell of the sea and hear the water gently hitting the boat. It was much quieter than in the reception room, where the music and voices could quickly get to his head.

He stayed a little while , simply staring at the waves. A man who was cleaning the deck passed just behind him.

“Be careful, the ground is slippery around here,” he said.

Mycroft just nodded to say he'd understood. The man walked away and he was alone again for a little while. He had no desire to go back to the others. He felt a little sorry for leaving Anthea alone, but not enough to go back. Anyway, he knew that it wouldn't bother her much anyway. It didn't matter whether she was surrounded by people or alone, she didn't pay attention to anyone. Well, Mycroft knew that she was observing, but without ever getting involved, a remnant of her past as a spy.

He was interrupted in his thoughts and suddenly turned his head when he heard footsteps behind him. A man he had never seen before stopped a few steps away from him. The man was wearing a formal suit, yet Mycroft was sure he was not in the reception room before. And he didn't really look like a businessman, he looked much more like a soldier. He wasn't taller than he was, but he was twice his size, and he thought that if the man was there to attack him, there wasn't much he could do about it.

“Mr. Holmes ?,” he said.

The tone of his voice was harsh, not particularly aggressive, but strange for a man invited to this kind of event.

“You are ?” asked Mycroft in a suspicious tone.

The man smiled, but only his lips made the movement, his eyes remained cold.

“Another guest who is bored, as I was told you would be too.”

Mycroft raised an eyebrow.

“Who told you that ?” Mycroft asked, putting his hand in his pocket.

No sooner had he made that movement than the man pulled out a gun and pointed it at him. Mycroft froze.

“Give me your phone,” he said.

Mycroft preferred not to disobey, he wasn't really in a position to negotiate. Slowly he took the phone out and handed it to the man. He began to calculate his chances of taking the gun away from him, but was interrupted.

“Throw it in the ocean.”

He stared at the man without moving.

“Now.”

He had no choice. The hand holding the gun was not shaking, which meant he would have no hesitation in shooting. Mycroft didn't take his eyes off him, but threw his phone behind him. He didn't even hear the sound when it hit the water.

“Now the second one,” said the man.

“I don't have another one,” Mycroft replied immediately, perhaps a little too quickly.

“I don't believe you, someone like you must have a spare one.”

Mycroft did not move.

“I could take it from your corpse ,” proposed the man calmly.

Mycroft plunged his hand into the inside pocket of his jacket.

“Stop moving,” the man ordered.

He obeyed. The man was clearly a professional. Before he had time to react, his attacker approached him and grabbed his wrist while placing the barrel of his weapon against his temple. He took his hand out of his inside pocket. He was holding his second mobile phone.

“You thought it was a gun, didn't you ?”Mycroft asked flatly.

The man didn't answer him, and ripped the phone out of his hands just before throwing it into the water. Mycroft regretted not having taken his umbrella. He thought that with Anthea by his side he wouldn't need it. But he had let his guard down a little too much, and now he was alone in front of a man threatening him with a gun.

“Who are you ?” asked Mycroft.

“My name is not important,” said the man.

“You know that if you kill me you will not get off this ship alive,” said Mycroft.

The man laughed a little.

“Perhaps,” he said. “But you don't know if I'm here to kill you.”

Mycroft looked at him and said nothing.

“I could throw you into the ocean and no one would ever know,” said the man.

Mycroft thought he'd rather have that than be shot in the head. If he was thrown into the water he would still have a chance to swim until Anthea realised he was missing.

“But do not worry,” said the man in a mocking tone, “I'm not going to do it.”

Did that mean he intended to use his gun ? Or that he did not intend to kill him?

"Follow me," ordered the man, taking a step back.

And he pointed to a door, not the one by which he had got on the deck, but one right next to it. Mycroft looked at him for a moment before obeying. But the man was clearly a professional, and he left no opening, so he went where the man had indicated. He didn't look behind him, but he knew he was being followed, and that the gun was pointed at his back. He pushed the door open, half hoping that someone would be behind. But of course there was no one. It looked like a corridor for employees.

"First door on the right," said the man.

Mycroft obeyed. And stopped at the entrance. He had been trying to understand the man's intentions for a while. And seeing the place, he was beginning to understand. It was just an employee's bathroom, the most ordinary one. The only anomaly was that one of the sinks was filled with water, right to the brim. He now understood why he hadn't been shot yet. The man had intended to kill him, but he didn't intend to get caught. So he wanted his death to look natural. The solution to do this on a boat was obvious, he had to drown him. But if he threw him into the sea, even if he was knocked unconscious, he would still have a chance of surviving. So his solution was to drown him before throwing him into the water. Mycroft suddenly turned around.

"Don't move," ordered the man.

But it had become clear to Mycroft now that he would never shoot him. So he threw himself at the man and realised he was right. As soon as he saw him go forward, the man dropped his gun. Mycroft thrust his shoulder against the man's chest and managed to get him to move back slightly. Enough to get him out into the corridor again. He prepared to run but the man grabbed his wrist.

"Help !" cried Mycroft.

He heard his own voice echoing through the corridor. If there really wasn't anyone here, he wouldn't be heard, especially not in the noisy reception room. He tried to free himself but the man was clearly stronger than he was. He kept shouting as loud as he could but it didn't last more than a few seconds. The man grabbed him by the neck and he found his head in the sink. He struggled, trying to kick or punch his assailant. But he was much stronger than he was. He tried to hold his breath, but he felt that he couldn't hold on much longer. To his surprise, the man brought him to the surface again. He took a deep breath of air. Was he wrong ? Was he not going to be killed after all?

"I almost forgot," said the man in a mocking tone, "my boss wants you to know that the man responsible for your death is Jim Moriarty."

Oh. Of course, he was the only one who could send such a skilled assassin. Mycroft would have answered him but his head was in the water again. He struggled again, but there was nothing he could do. He could feel the water entering his ears, causing a constant thud, and entering his nose. He didn't have much air stored in his lungs and he was starting to panic. Almost in spite of himself, he opened his mouth. He swallowed water immediately. Mycroft couldn't breathe anymore. He knew there was water in his lungs, but it felt like they were on fire. He wanted to struggle, but he had no strength left. He was going to die, he was sure he was going to die. How could this have ever happened ?

He thought of Anthea, alone in the reception room. Or maybe she had already left to look for him. No matter what, he knew that no one would come to save him. He closed his eyes, or perhaps they were already closed, he was no longer sure. It was as if everything was disappearing around him. He thought of his brother. He would be alone now, to fight Jim Moriarty. There was no one left to protect him. A little cruelly, he thought that his brother would soon join him. Then he thought that he was very cold, before he fainted.

A minute passed before the man pulled his head out of the water and saw that he had succeeded. Mycroft Holmes was no more. He even looked rather pathetic with his hair and face dripping with water. All he had to do was to throw his body into the ocean and even if he was found, nobody would suspect anything. If Mycroft had still been alive, he would have told the criminal not to rejoice because he would have heard the sound of heels in the corridor. And he would have understood that in a few seconds Anthea would arrive, see the scene, pick up the revolver that the criminal had left on the floor, and shoot the man who had just killed his boss in the head. But Mycroft was dead, so the criminal didn't know any of this until it was too late.

What Mycroft could not have predicted was that once the criminal would be dead too, the gun would again hit the boat's floor with a metal clatter. Anthea would have fallen to her knees in the pool of blood she had created and taken the lifeless body of her boss in her arms. And once she would have seen that he would not wake up, tears would have flowed down her cheeks for the first time since she was a little girl, and then words would have started to come out without her even really wanting them to.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry...”

And she wouldn't have known why she was sorry, but she would have carried that guilt for the rest of her life.

And of course, even if Mycroft wasn't there to see them, all these things that could have happened were the exact scenario that took place.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it, even if, well, it was quite sad, but I'm really enjoying doing this challenge !  
> As usual, feel free to leave comments :)


End file.
